Person:Nora Painter (1)

Floyd and Arlene Gyger have that she died when she was one year old and that she is buried beside her father. Another place has Norma. Her father composed this poem in honor of her.

    Close the door tightly and bridle the breath
    Our little earth angel is talking with death.
    Gently he wood her, she wishes to stay
    His arms are about her, he bears her away.
    Music comes floating down from the dome
    Angels are chanting the sweet welcome home.
    Come stricken weeper, come to her bed
    Gaze on the sleeper, our idol is dead.
    Sooth out ringlets and close her blue eyes
    No wonder such beauty was claimed in the skies.
    Cross the hands gently over the white breast
    She was so like a wild spirit strayed from the blessed
    Bore her out softly, this idol of ours
    And let her grave slumbers be amid the sweet flowers.

1. ↑ Floyd and Arlene Gyger's notes.
2. ↑ Painter.FTW.

   Date of Import: Jun 18, 1999